Bed of Nails
by Chiikara
Summary: [HAITUS. SephCloud, CloAerith, postgame] Sephiroth proposes to exchange Cloud's cooperation with Aerith's revival.
1. Don't Wake Up

Bed of Nails

Sephiroth, Cloud, and Aerith paired in multiple different ways. Mostly Sephiroth x Cloud and Cloud x Aerith. Dark: torture, slavery, sadism.

Rated R, will rise to NC-17 in later chapters, **you have been warned.**

Chapter 1. _Don't Wake Up_

"You're trembling." she whispered, her voice thick with concern, and Cloud found himself speechless, gawking at the, thick, shining locks of hair tumbling over her shoulders, bloodless skin - so cold, and the worst part of it was that she was right, he _was_ trembling, and trembling hard.

"Sorry." he breathed. And then her rosebud lips parted in a soft, understand smile and he found himself shaking even harder, and her arms around his neck squeezed a little in an attempt to soothe him, but that only made him hug her back, and that in turn made him even _more_ desperate to freeze time, to somehow stop all the laws of nature and keep them together forever, together in harmony, surrounded by the white and gold blossoms of the promised land, smiling at eachother and holding eachother. They were both doused in sweat, and even though he was panting with the heat of their passion, she was colder than any Shiva that could ever grace their minds for years to come.

"It's okay." came her chiming voice, soft and high and fragile. "I understand. It's been so long." she traced one slender finger over his tanned chest and leaned into him, running her hands through his hair until damp blond locks stood on end, stray strands sticking to his neck and flushed cheeks.

"I love you." he whispered, and then that horrible something stung his eyes. She pursed her lips and shook her head and extended her hand in order to wipe the tears away, but her hand went _through_ them for some awful, unspeakable reason and that just made him cry harder and hold her closer, knowing that her solid body under him was too white to be alive, that soon he would snap out of whatever blissful stupor he was in and she would be gone, gone, _gone_.

"Don't cry." she said. "Please don't cry. We'll be together again. It'll just take time, that's all. Just a little bit more time."

But he didn't want time, he wanted _now_, he wanted his happily ever after to be _happy_, and when her own eyes filled with tears of want and her cold, dead hands pulled him close, he leaned into her and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Cloud resisted the urge to flinch when small, icy pearls of water plopped unto his back and spilt down his shoulders, and when she spoke, her voice was raspy and painful and so unlike the sweet, crisp, smiling tone he had always connected with her shining face.

"It won't be forever." she assurred him, in spite of his own endless tears. "Really. We'll be together, and when we are, we can be like this every day until the end of time, and you'll be happy, and I'll be warm to you, and we'll both be in the same world, without these dreams, finally at peace, and - "

"But I want you in _this_ world." he breathed against the soft curve of her breasts. "Please, God, I'll do anything. Just don't leave me again."

"I _can't_." she said. "I'm will, but...just...not _now_. We can't be like this yet.

"Then why are you teasing me?" he sobbed. "Why can't you just let me let me _die_, let me go without knowing that I'm residing in hell when it's possible to be with you?"

"Because, Cloud." she whispered, her voice now gaining control of her tears and becoming lovingly maternal. "You have to _live_."

**§ § § **

The empty air around him was colder than her touch had been, and when he thought of that ice, he thought of Aerith, and when he thought of Aerith, he thought of her blood, and then came _his_ blood, and somehow that always led to a period of emptiness, a time that he could never recall existing, and he assumed that he had blacked out, but when he came to again, there was a scar on his wrist that he had never remembered making.

And then he _did_ remember but he wanted more, he wanted that copper taste in his mouth because it was punishment, because it was what he deserved for letting her die, but at the same time, it was torture, because if he died now, he would be with her - _happy_ with her, and something inside of him told him that he didn't deserve that kind of happiness. Because when he was with Aerith, he cried. And when he cried, she cried, too.

But he found the knife somewhere under his bed and snaked it out and stared at it, experimented different cuts, tried to see which spots on his arms would draw the most and which would bring out the darkest color. And before it got too bad, it would stop - just _stop_, and he would remember Aerith telling him he had to live, that there was still things that needed to be done, some time that he had to fill in, some horrible _not yet_ that shouldn't be, but there it was, mocking him again.

And then he sat forward and turned the blade around, looking at his pale face through the stainless steel, and suddenly he realized that he wasn't the only one reflected on the surface.

"You." he hissed, and the voice behind him spoke, quiet and myseterious as ever: "Me."

The silence went on forever, and then Cloud dropped the knife with a sickening grunt and got to his feat, standing beside the bloodstained mattress and facing the man who was responsible for her death - her blood, his blood - for this funny feeling that crept inside him every time that knife got brought out in the open.

"Get out." Cloud whispered. "You're not welcome here."

"If I am not welcome," Sephiroth said simply, "Then I wouldn't be able to come. I am here here because you _want_ me to be here."

"I _don't._" Cloud said firmly, but even though his voice was strong and solid, the silver-haired man could sense the doubt lurking around him, and the smile on his face was clear enough for the both of them to understand completely. Cloud flushed deeply, turning his face away before saying once more: "_Get out._"

"No."

Suddenly, the room felt colder than it usually was, colder than it had ever been, so cold that, in comparison, Aerith's bloodless skin was like a newly blazing fire. And his mind was writhing in pain, but that didn't matter, because no matter how badly he wanted to _shriek_ and _scream_ and _break_, what came out of his mouth was not anger, but calm, controlled words.

"What do you want with me?"

"...many, many things." Sephiroth said quietly.

"Get out of here." Cloud repeated once more, but Sephiroth just shook his head, smiling.

"I can see darkness all around you." he breathed teasingly.

Cloud scoffed, feeling his face color up with fury. He had brought it there, after all. He had reached through his skin and to his heart and wrapped cold fingers around it and _squeezed_. It was all his fault, all his fault, all

"_- your fault, all your damn fault!"_ he was screaming before his mind had even come to understand it.

"You'll understand, eventually."

"Don't tell me that." Cloud snapped. "I _never_ want to understand what's going through your sick mind."

There was a period of silence, and for a moment he thought he heard the older man laughing, but then it was over, and just as Cloud was about to crawl back into bed and assume it was all just a dream, Sephiroth spoke again, voice dark and warm and drawling.

"Cloud, you're bleeding."

He knew. The dumb fuck knew, and that was the worst part about it. He was _teasing_, and for a moment it seemed like the only possible reaction was a tearful explanation or a quick screech for him to just _get the fuck out_, but when those thoughts passed over him, a little voice in the back of his head began to argue that Sephiroth didn't have the upper hand here, for God's sake. He didn't have to answer any questions he didn't want to. In fact, if he just pretended that the devil wasn't here in the room...maybe...eventually...he'd leave...

He closed his eyes and wished fleetingly that he had dressed in long sleeves earlier. He wanted to curl up in a fetal position and hide under his desk and just scream and scream until the sun burned out and his breath eventually slowed and stopped.

But none of this happened, so Cloud just shook his head and kept silent.

"It's because of her, isn't it?"

_It's because of you._

"She _died_ for you."

_She died for_ us.

"She loved you."

_She showed me._

"But you're only a puppet..."

_Just as dead as her, right?_

"And yet you claim to feel." he finished with a sadistic smile. "Even now, you still claim to feel."

The remark through him off gaurd, something that seemed to light that match that sat, harmless, in the back of his mind and make his body scream for mercy, because it _burned_, God, it hurt like hell froze over. If Cloud didn't know better, he would have even said he could hear that colorless strike - _plick!_ - of the match being lit and the muffled crackles of it's growing flame.

He felt a vague tug at his soul as he wondered silently if Aerith was listening. The dead were watching over them, he had been told, but the room was empty besides Sephiroth and himself. And it was wrong. It was wrong because Sephiroth had been the one who was responsible for her murder, and it was wrong because Cloud was doing nothing to stop him, to kill him, to hate him.

And then a long-fingered hand snaked over his own, and he noticed for the first time how pale his skin was, so thin and white that they looked to him like enormous spiders, surely posionous, surely ready to sink their needle-like teeth into his flesh.

Sephiroth's right hand drew back for a moment, perfectly cautious, and when it came back into his field of view, Cloud felt his breath catch sharply at the sight of the already bloodied knife he had left on his bed.

The shining edge of the blade pressed against his flesh, leaving a small indentation in his skin. The pressure and heat of the older man's body pressing against his back was just as humiliating as the fact that he could easily be murdered right here and now: the fact that he really wouldn't _mind_ if he was, the fact that he was simply waiting for a chance like this to come. For a chance to meet Aerith.

But Sephiroth waited. He waited and waited and waited until Cloud's hitched breaths slowly relaxed and his eyes had settled and his jaw had clamped shut and his shoulders slumped. Then, when it became clear that Cloud had given up on the idea that he was in any danger whatsoever, he drew the blade back and, in one sharp, slashing motion, slit his wrist.

Cloud shrieked and jerked his arm sharply away, but Sephiroth clamped his bloodied arm down against the table with one hand and, with the other, pulled the blonde boy closer to him by his upper arm.

Cloud's shoulders hunched, his face grew dark, his eyes grew wide, his lips parted softly, beautifully, and in that moment he looked so delicious, so luscious, so damn _fuckable_ that Sephiroth felt his very being tremble with unbridled desire.

"Why, Cloud." he whispered softly into the boys ear, "Is this any different than when _you_ had cut yourself? It's the same wound, is it not? Why does it make such a difference when _I'm_ the one responsible, hmm?"

"Stop." Cloud begged wildly, his entire body breaking out into a cold sweat. "Please, please God, stop..."

Sephiroth sighed in a stunningly maternal manner and released his firm grip on Cloud's wrist, licking the blood off his palms nonchalantly before casting a cure spell over the wounded flesh. Cloud watched, transfixed, as the cut faded away slowly, the blood supply cut off, the tiny drops of scarlet wine rolling off the slope of his arm like rainwater on feathers.

"You're such a silly child." he said, his voice thick with disgust.

"Yes, I _am_ a silly child!" Cloud screamed, rising from his chair so violently that it toppled over behind him with an unsettling thump. "But you're just as silly as I am - coming back here just to tease me! What other reasons do you have, Sephiroth! Boredom? Sadism?"

"Oh my." he answered quietly. "My intentions are completely pure, Strife."

"_Oh?_" he hissed doubtfully.

"Yes." Sephiroth said, his voice slinking towards carelessness once again. "I've come to make a proposal."

"I don't want your goddamn _proposal._" Cloud hissed, whirling around in his seat stubbornly, his back to the silver-haired man.

"But you're hurting, arn't you? You see her at night, don't you?"

_Yes_ his mind whispered, but somehow, it seemed, Sephiroth heard him. He was sure - _sure_ he hadn't spoken aloud but...there was no other explanation. There was no way his mind could be read, no way his body language was that clear...and just the thought of him responding out loud - in such a _weak manner_ none the less - was humiliating.

"You want to be with her." Sephiroth continued nonchalantly.

"Yes." he said. This time he was sure his answer had been verbalized, but what horrified him even more was the fact that he could actually _feel_ Sephiroth's eyes piercing through him.

"_I can bring her back._" he breathed clearly.

His breath caught for a moment, eyes locked with Sephirtoh's, those endless orbs of green, honesty, honesty...no, no, he had to be joking. Another one of his tricks, his illusions, his attempts to pull Cloud's strings. Manipulating him like the puppet he was.

"Don't lie to me." he said clearly. "I'm sick of your damn lies."

"I killed her." Sephiroth said simply. "And I can bring her back. What's so hard to understand about that?"

"Why would you want to!" Cloud cried. "I'm sick of being used!"

"You even if you don't want to accept it...you see her in your dreams." he continued. "She's still reachable. You know that."

Something seemed to snap in the back of his mind. He was right. He _had_ seen her. He had touched her, felt her, talked with her. She had been cold, yes, but that didn't excuse the fact that she was still _solid..._

"I can bring her back, Cloud. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes." he whispered, feeling something stinging the back of his eyes. Desire and hate boiled in the pit of his stomach. "But what will you take from me in return? My life? My sanity?"

"Neither." he said clearly. "I want you. All of you. I want you to come with me. Come with me, and I'll give you the flower girl."

"Lair." Cloud said clearly.

"What reason do I have to lie?"

"Me!" he said shrilly, rising from his seat. "Me! And what do you want with _me_ Sephiroth? My power? Will you turn me against me friends, make me one of your useless slaves, force me to murder Aerith once she is back? Or is it my title you want, the glory of being able to have authority over the great Cloud Strife?"

"Calm yourself." he said. "The darkness around you is stirring. Your soul is stirring."

"You are doing so." he said coldly.

Sephiroth's arms parted, white palms exprosed as he beckoned Cloud closer, welcoming the boy into his embrace.

"There is darkness all around you." he said softly. "You can't escape it, no matter how hard you try. Accept it, Cloud. I welcome you into the darkness, now...you may do as you like."

He watched, waited - waited as Cloud hesitated, stared openly into the space between his arms, his welcoming embrace. His eyes gave him away - he wanted to move forward, wanted nothing more than to give himself up, but his body wanted to disobey, and his feet stumbled backward, his head shook, his lips parted in a moan of want.

And then he moved forward - just a bit, a little bit, and somehow that gave him the courge to go. He pressed himself coldly against the older man's chest, face a twisted display of humiliation, crying, his fists raised up against his breast like a child sobbing in a sympathetic mother's arms, sobbing; "_What do you want from me!_"

"Get on your knees." Sephiroth replied in an almost inaudiable whisper. "Beg."


	2. Starve if You Must

And now I get to answer to reviews.

Yay. Yay for reviews.

Note: responses here are only for the reviews submitted to FF, any reviews submitted to AFF will be answered there, at LJ will be answered _there_...and...etc.

Yeah.

Minato: Don't be silly, reviews never irk me. (giggles)

Minato...or...um...Azelais: MyPrettyPuppet love. Jen0va99 love. Sodasexy love. Hehehe.

Many thanks, dearest!

Xelena: I just saw Advent Children a few days after I wrote this fic. (I wrote Copycat without seeing it...hence all the badness...argh) I freaked out when Sephiroth said that line, in-between my screams of "ZOMGMANSEX" I was wondering if my brain had hooked up with the DVD player during sleep or some weird Day-the-Earth-Stood-Still miracle of wonders.

...Ahem. (giggles) Thanks you.

Scitzo and Psyco: Where?

(taps chin thoughtfully)

...um...a bedroom. For the hell of it, lets just say an Inn. Yay for Inns. You can get a full nights sleep in 15 seconds. A bargain!

Thanks for reviewing

Darkmaster2: Will do, thanks!

RuByMoOn17: Thanks!

Almighty God of Paper: LUFF!11one. Hehe, glad you enjoyed.

Ardwynna Morrigu: Your review is...written well. (nervous laugh) Seriously, it is, I'm...flattered. Thanks. (skips off to happy place)

Chibi Taryn Demon: Dude, you just hit the nail on the head. I never played Kingdom Hearts, but being the SEPHCLOUDZOMGSQUEEWTFBBQ fan I am, I was reading a summary of their fight in Kingdom Hearts, and the darkness thing set off a light bulb in my head. Inspiration. Hehe! Glad you're liking!

Dvana: (fans self) Thank you, love.

§ **§** §

Bed of Nails

§ **§** §

Chapter 2. Starve if You Must

§ **§** §

A _dungeon._

Really, now, dungeons weren't his tastes. Or chains. Or this brute's hand on his shoulder, leading him down the hallway so forcefully that one might have been under the impression that he had been struggling. Or thick metal bars. Or seeing his friends behind them.

But here they were - or two of them, at least. They were instantly fermilar, though Cloud couldn't quite bring their names to his lips - the first, he knew, was Cid. What other man had such a rough body and short, blonde hair, had such a leering smile? He was near the back of the cell, elbows on his thighs and head resting against the stonewash wall, eyes closed and lips pulled back in a wistful smile, his Adam's apple in clear view. The second was standing by the bars, her hands wrapped eagerly around them, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. And for once it seemed that a name could not be fitted to a face. Rich, long, brown hair, a round face, a glittery smile...

"_Yuffie?_" Cloud breathed.

"I knew he'd remember me! I knew it! I _knew_ it!" she smiled in victory, placed her hands squarely on her hips, and gave him a quick look-over. Her eyes froze almost as soon as they made contact with his battered body, and dark eyelids dropped to caustic half-circles of annoyance. "You haven't changed a bit, Cloud."

"You...have." he said weakly.

"Oh, this?" she flipped a overgrown lock of hair over her shoulder and smiled brightly. "I couldn't find anything to cut my hair with, and these dirt-faced guards won't give me anything to - _yes, I ment you!_" she screamed as the man with his hand clamped firmly on Cloud's shoulder glared daggers and opened his mouth to insult her. "Would it hurt to give a woman a decent haircut once in a while! I'm living in a rathole!" she huffed loudly. "But Cid - Cid sure likes my hair like this - don't you Cid? _Cid!_"

Cid Highwind looked up briefly, muttered something inaudiable, and then finally, in a rougher, more cynical voice; "Knew it would only be a matter of time...but what the fuck are you _doing_ here, Cloud?"

The cell clicked open with a flash of silver keys and a pained look from the guard, and Cloud was thrust inside so roughly at his head snapped back. He whirled, opening his mouth and ready to voice his anger, he wasn't here to be a fucking _captive_, he was here to start a _deal -_

"You will join the master for dinner." his guard said crudely, his callous voice cutting through Cloud's rampant thoughts like a knife. "And wear this." He thrust forward a silk vest, a little thing, really, laced with ribbons and taunt strings. It seemed, he thought, more like a woman's corest than true dinner attire.

"...thank you." he whispered through clenched teeth as the man leaned against the wall, waiting for Cloud to finish changing. Honestly, he would have rather screamed his fury at being presented such a thing - and like a common slave, no less - but really, it wasn't this man's fault. It was Sephiroth's.

Save the anger for the puppet master... - yes, that was best.

Yuffie's eyes traveled over the length of material and she uttered a sharp, mocking cry. "Oh!" she said, "That idiot never invited me to dinner before. He's got to be planning something, right, Cloud!"

"I'm not a fool." he muttered, slipping the silk on over his sweater.

"You must be." she said bitterly, but her voice was so soft that Cloud could have sworn her words were not meant for him to hear. "You came here, didn't you?"

Cid shook his head quietly and took a long drag from his cigerette. a disgusted smile beginning to light up his features. "Yeah, well."

"Why are you here, Cid?" Cloud piped up, getting a good look at him for the first time. The stubble on his chin had grown out into an acceptable beard, and his short, blonde hair flared out wildly. His hands were rough and covered with burns from cigerette embers. There was a small indentation on his left cheek, as if he had leaned against a brick wall for hours while a stone dug into his flesh. Little differences, to be honest, but somehow it was chilling. Cid might have been on the beaten side, but...well, Shera took care of him. And he never let himeslf get out of hand regardless.

"Protecting the lovely lady." he said with a caustic shrug. Yuffie rolled her eyes, protesting; "I didn't ask for help! I was fine by myself. Yuffie Kirasagi, material hunter! I fear no one! It's people like you that get in my way, old man."

"How the hell could I live with myself if I didn't do anything, though?" Cid said. His voice seemed worn, coarse, as if he was sick of argueing. That was scary, somehow. Scary because Cloud vividly remembered the way Cid used to cursed and laughed and kick his feet in the dust, the way he had screamed when they first met, screamed to _sit down_, for God's sake, and drink his goddamn _coffee_!

"Yuffie." he breathed. "There hasn't been an...attack on Wutai yet, has there?"

Yuffie's brow knitted together darkly for a moment, but she shook her head. Cloud let out his breath without really realizing that he had been holding it.

"I gave myself up after losing this battle so he wouldn't attack Wutai. He might still - you know, that lying jerk...but...well, at least the people can get away if they think they're in danger."

"You should have fought." Cid muttered darkly.

"I did!" Yuffie screamed, stomping her foot down childishly. "It just got out of control is all! You would have done the same!"

"I guess." Cloud said in low tones. And then, on the heels of that: "I'll bring you back some food."

"Don't bother." Yuffie said, plopping down on the floor idley. "We eat. Just not with Sephiroth..._boo-hoo_...like I need that idiot breathing down my neck while I _eat..._"

"I'm not exactlly thrilled to be going, you know." Cloud informed her dryly.

"Oh, sure." he thought he hard sarcasm in her voice, but dismissed it when she smiled pleasently. "What did you get in here for?"

"Promises."

"_Promises_." Cid repeated in caustic disbelief.

"...yes. We made a deal. And I guess I'm...just...mapping things out."

"...a deal." Yuffie and Cid exchanged mundane glances.

"I'll tell you later." he muttered, pulling on the strings of his vest irritabley.

"Tell me now!" Yuffie protested loudly.

"Can't. Have to leave...for dinner..."

The guard rose from his perch on the floor and began in a small voice; "Dinner doesn't start too soon, that's why I brought you down here..."

"I'm going now." he said roughly.

Yuffie's eyes darkened, and Cid cried out on cue;

"Goddamn _dinner!_ _Fuck_ dinner! _Talk!_"

The guard's hand clapped on his shoulder roughly, leading him away, and he muttered a quick apology before turning to leave the cell.

Cid whispered; "Goddamn pussy."

And really, there was no reason to argue.

§ **§** §

Sephiroth stabbed his knife into the burnt meat before and brought it to his lips. Cloud watched, mesmerized, as tiny white teeth tore it apart, eyes still fixed on his, regardless of the task at hand, the way he had somehow set the knife back down on the table without Cloud really noticing. He ate like an animal. The most graceful damn animal Cloud had ever laid eyes on, but an animal regardless.

"A broken puppet with broken strings." he muttered pleasently. "But still a puppet, Cloud. You havn't changed a bit."

Cloud felt a muscle in his jaw twitch, but said nothing. His eyes dropped down to the food set before him - some disgusting, unnamed, overcooked meat, god forbid he'd ever know what the fuck it _was_, and next to that, rice, and a tall, crystal goblet brimming with saké.

"What's wrong, pet?" Sephiroth whispered with mock disappointment. "Most of my guests are lucky to get beveradges at all, let alone good wine." One pale, claw-like hand dropped to his goblet and a long, white fingernail slid against the mouth of it. The pale, dead reflection of his hand became a clear imagine in the wine, like the smile of a particularly elusive phantom.

"I'm not your pet." Cloud said firmly.

"Don't be silly. I've never had someone get down on their knees and beg for me unless they were a victum, a pet, or a whore. Would you rather I adressed you as a whore, Cloud?" the beginnings of a smirk touched his lips.

"_Go fuck yourself_." he said clearly, grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming. It was a great accomplishment for him to have not gotten up and run the traitor through with his sword - but Aerith was on the line here, or so it seemed.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed, but his lips twisted in a possesive, satisfied smile; like a particularly angry man who just found an excuse to release his anger on a victum. Carefully, he picked up the crystal goblet with one hand and tipped the wine about gracefully, forming red whirl-pools and little miniture tsunamis and admiring the way the bubbles would rise from the bottom to break through the surface...

And wordlessly, he snapped his arm back to sweep the goblet in a sudden arc, pitching the contents toward the pale boy across from him. Cloud flinched, squeezed his eyes shut, and finally, uttered a sudden, strenuous gasp before drawing his lips together into the thinnest of thin lines to prevent from crying out in furious humiliation as the blood-like substance spilled over his face like rainwater. The deep red of the alcohol seemed to tint his hair pink, mixing with the flawless gold color and creating a palette like a sunrise - perfect save the tiny halo of light from the candles that gleamed off his features. Saké dripped from split ends and sooty eyelashes like blood.

"You..._bastard_." he said finally, making no move to wipe the cold alcohol off his body, even as he felt his skin erupt into gooseflesh.

"A bastard for stating a point." Sephiroth remarked cruely. "You really are a child." He felt a smirk creep unto his face as the blonde boy fumbled for words, face seeming paler than usually, and silently surrendered with a jaded sigh.

"Eat your food." Sephiroth ordered offhandedly, setting his goblet back down on the hardwood table with a small _clink!_

Cloud's eyes shifted colorlessly from his own brimming goblet to the food before him, the gravey and the overcooked meat and that horrible thought that he couldn't quite tell what it _was_, the little gold lining around the edges of the china, oh, how he wondered where he got all this, where the supply came from - a destroyed location? And what would that be? Nibelhiem? Wutai? And what if it was...

"...poisoned." he breathed with a hopelessly horrified expression. "You're trying to kill me."

But Sephiroth only smiled.

"_Eat your food._" he repeated.

So Cloud ate his food.

§ **§** §

Dinner was quick after that, and for the most part, silent. There were no real words spoken between them, if glances and body language are to be ignored; but Sephiroth had a fantastic talent in portraying emotions with his eyes. Not like a boy, a little brown-eyed child who any adult can read like a book, but that simple glance, the flash of hard, emerald eyes, that look of hunger and hatred, that look of _want_. And even if Cloud did manadge to tear his eyes away from the ex-General's, it was impossible not to _feel_ them. The way they seemed so ever-preseant on his body made him shiver, a constant cringe, and he wished for a moment that he was smaller, weaker, something that could curl up into a ball and vanish, something that could melt into the floor and out of sight, anything, _anything_ to get those god-awful _eyes_ off him.

The room stayed silent save the clinking of glass and metal and an occassional nervous cough from Cloud. Somewhere down the line, Sephiroth pushed his plate away, smiled deviously, and rose, boots clicking on the hardwood floor, his long, silvery hair fanning out behind him without the slightest aid of wind. Cloud watched, stunned into silence, as the figure loomed before him, once an idol, now an enemy, someone to hate, to fear, to love all at once, and then long, spider-like fingers reached downward and gripped his chin, bringing his face up and his nose just inches away from the older man's. And in that beautiful but awful bell-like voice, he said; "Come."

His grip on Cloud's face released, arm falling gracefully to his side, and he turned and walked away, seeming almost to glide across the floor. Cloud watched speechlessly for a moment before jumping up and jogging after, unaware of the sweat that had broken across his forehead.

Sephiroth lead him up a flight of stairs, close quarters, curtains, past a room full of china and broken instruments, keepsakes from different countries, an old photograph of a dark-haired friend from SOILDER, and finally into a large, white bedroom, empty save a four-poster and a half-open drawer bursting with articles of clothes. Cloud stayed quietly by the doorway while Sephiroth moved on ahead, flicking on a lamp and coming close to the window, glancing outside, closing his eyes briefly. In a tone so willowy that it was seemed to belong to a young woman rather than a dangerous ex-General, he breathed; "Sit down."

Cloud moved uncertainly toward the bed and plopped down on it, his eyes darting across the room to make sure there were no chairs that could take it's place.

Gloved hands reached out and snagged a piece of clothing, pulling it from the drawer and unfolding it, green eyes scanning the fabic curiously before throwing it aside and moving to another, and another, and another...

Cloud watched, utterly fascinated. And after what seemed like hours of pointless prodding, the silver-haired man threw a white garmet toward him and ordered; "Dress."

He glanced at the thing thrown at him, taking it gently and spreading it out across the bed for inspection. It was a silk kimono, a white so soft and flawless that it seemed almost silver in the lamplight, bestrewn with green and yellow patterns of large, intricate things, abstract designs that, given time, appeared to be something like roses.

He didn't know how long he had simply sat there, entranced. But after what seemed like an eternity, Sephiroth's voice broke through once more, deep and authoritive; "I said _dress_."

Cloud gawked at him, looked quitely down at the kimono, and thought for a moment of Aerith. Thought of the way her eyes shone and her pink lips had parted to spread into a perfect grin, the way she would giggle in such a far-off manner, the way she would mumble loudly in sleep.

Thought of the way her face had drained of blood before she died.

He slipped the kimono on over his clothes, fixing the sleeves and smoothing the fabric over his legs. It was a rather large garmet, really - it covered his feet entirely, and, even with the belt tied tight, it slipped over his shoulders again and again.

Sephiroth chuckled. "You're comfortable sleeping with those clothes on underneath?"

"_Yes_." Cloud said unflinchingly.

"Have it your way." he grinned, and his shoulders twitched in what might have been a small, casual shrug before taking two long strides toward the four-poster and setting himself down on it, laying on his side, still fully clad in leather.

Cloud watched him, horrified, until he sleep took it's course.

And when he woke up, he found - to his utter surprise and relief - that he remained untouched.


End file.
